


keep all our tenderness

by somehowunbroken



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Happy Ending, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: It's Connor's birthday. It's not going exactly how he pictured it, but then, lots of things aren't.





	keep all our tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> HI I HAVE FEELINGS WHO'S SURPRISED
> 
> thanks to D and S for finding my typos! <3
> 
> title from [my favourite chords](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcqRUcUo7Zg) by the weakerthans.

The game against the Coyotes is harder than it maybe should be, but that's pretty much how Connor feels all the time this season. It doesn't help that Connor had sort of been holding out hope that the Yotes' management team would pull their heads out of their asses and put Dylan in the NHL where he belongs by the time they played, but he's dealing. He's dealing.

 _beat them 4 u,_ he texts Dylan when they're back on the bus. They're heading to Vegas for the last game before their bye week, and Connor carefully doesn't think about any of the half-formed plans he'd had about Vegas and Dylan and his birthday.

He's dealing.

His phone chimes quietly on the way to the airport; he has the AHL app downloaded, and he follows Roadrunners games and Dylan's name specifically. It's not great news, so he's mostly prepared for it when he's buckling his seat belt on the plane and Dylan texts him back. _at least 1 of us managed a W._

Connor considers his reply. There's no use in saying something like "if you'd been up we would've lost," because it's probably not true and they both know it, and there's no need to remind Dylan about things he can't forget anyway. "Miss you" is too obvious, and "wish you were here" is, too. He settles for a Canadian flag, a yellow heart, a mad face, and a dog emoji, and considers it a job well done when Dylan sends back the yellow heart and a crying laughing face.

"Hey," Ryan says, elbowing him. It's almost gentle, which is how Connor knows exactly how pathetic he probably looks right now. It's been both weird and good having Ryan on the team; he's family, pretty much, and Connor had almost been dreading having the guy who's essentially his older brother on his team, but Ryan's as easy-going as he's ever been. It's nice having that brotherly connection sometimes, too, having someone who'll step in and firmly tell Connor that he's being a little shit, or that he's running himself too thin, or that he needs to take a goddamn break, already, christ. The rest of the team has tried and Connor loves them for it, he does, but Ryan generally manages to get through, which is something that really only Hallsy ever managed, and, well. 

Connor swears he's dealing. With… lots of things.

"Hey," Ryan says again, leaning into Connor's space. "C'mon, phone off. I don't want to have to fight a flight attendant for you."

"You love me," Connor tosses back even as he's putting his phone into airplane mode.

"Don't make me prove it," Ryan warns, but he's grinning. "Because I can and will fight a flight attendant, but the entire plane will see, and we both know I'm gonna lose."

"Don't embarrass yourself," Connor says, and his grin comes easily, naturally, and he's glad Ryan's here. "Or me. Especially me."

"Worst," Ryan proclaims, but he puts the armrest up and leans up against the window.

The flight is only an hour, but Connor takes the invitation anyway, leaning against Ryan and closing his eyes.

-0-

They beat Vegas, but Nuge goes down the tunnel in the second and doesn't come back, so Connor can't consider it anything better than a solid draw. Two points is two points that they badly need, but Nuge is solid and friendly and good. Nobody's saying if it's long-term or if it's just precautionary at this point, but Connor's in Vegas. He knows better than to bet against the house.

Dylan wins too, though, which does manage to lift Connor's spirits. It really, really sucks that Dylan's in the AHL, but at least he's winning more there than the Yotes are. He's an AHL All-Star, not that Connor ever thought he'd be anything but, and Connor will honestly be shocked if he's not at least one of the favorites for the AHL Rookie of the Year.

 _meep meep,_ Connor texts, because he'd started out the year planning to send some sort of coyote howl when Dylan won a game. He's adjusted his strategy since, but the thought hasn't wavered.

 _drip drop smear why is ur team named after something gross,_ Dylan texts back, and Connor cracks a smile.

"Hey, Cap," Ryan says, sliding into the seat next to Connor on the bus. He's texting someone, but he puts his phone down to grin at Connor. "I'm under strict orders to make sure you have at least one drink tonight, since it's your birthday."

Connor sighs. "I already told Nursey—"

"Nope, not Nursey," Ryan says, and Connor's phone buzzes again. He looks down to see a new text from Dylan. _i paypaled ry 20 bucks and told him to buy you something that tastes like fruit and sugar so just shut up and enjoy your mojito or whatev_

 _pretty sure mojitos are minty,_ Connor says, but he's smiling a little helplessly as he looks back up at Ryan.

"One drink," he says firmly. "Hotel lobby. I'm not going out tonight."

"You're the most boring little brother I have," Ryan says, rolling his eyes. "I'll tell Matty he's been promoted. He'll be thrilled."

"You can have them put an umbrella in it," Connor offers, and Ryan whoops.

-0-

Ryan gets his spare key card; being captain means they let his room-sharing obligation slide on the road, but he doesn't like that nobody else has access to him. His mind is really good at worst-case scenarios, so he always just gives Ryan his spare when they check in, and it's not even a thing anymore. Usually it makes Connor feel a little safer, a little more at peace, but tonight it means that he can't actually back out of going to get a birthday fruit monstrosity, because Ryan barges into his room ten minutes after they get back to the hotel. He takes in Connor's sweatpants and black tee and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't comment.

"Not gonna make me change?" Connor says, already sliding his shoes on.

"We're going to the hotel bar," Ryan says flatly. "And it's not like you're trying to pick up. Maybe the sweatpants will scare off the creepy middle-aged businessmen."

"If only," Connor mutters. It's one thing when it happens in Edmonton; you have to really search for someone who doesn't know Connor's face there. It still mystifies him how he gets more people trying to pick him up than Leon does when they're anywhere else, though. Leon is, by any measure, leaps and bounds more attractive than Connor is, and yet.

"Drink time," Ryan says firmly. "And then you can come back up and watch Netflix and text my brother until you fall asleep."

"Hey," Connor protests, mostly on principle. It's not like it's inaccurate or anything.

Ryan just grins at him. "The more you drag your feet, the more little umbrellas I'm gonna ask them for," he singsongs. "We're in Vegas. I bet they'll do as many as I ask for."

Connor rolls his eyes and follows Ryan out the door.

Either the bartender takes mercy on him or Ryan relents, because there are only two paper umbrellas in the mudslide that Ryan plonks down in front of Connor. Connor raises an eyebrow. "Dylan said it was supposed to be fruity."

"You'll like this better," Ryan says, all the confidence of knowing Connor for years evident in his voice. "Chocolate. Baileys. Ice cream. Trust me, Davo."

"Fine," Connor says grudgingly, leaning forward and taking a sip.

Ryan's not wrong; it's like a milkshake, only boozy, and it's definitely better than the crappy beer Connor usually gets back home. Mixed drinks aren't generally his style, mostly because he has no idea what he's doing, but this is actually pretty good. Probably not worth all the chirping he'd get if he ordered one for himself when he went out with the guys, but definitely a fun change from the norm.

"Thanks," he says when he's had a few sips. Ryan grins, smug. "I'm still telling Dylan you skipped on the fruit, though."

"Sort of want to make a pineapple joke, sort of don't," Ryan says, and it takes Connor a second, but he groans and buries his face in his hands.

"I'm not talking about my sex life with you," Connor mumbles, feeling his face heat.

"Which is why I said that to you, not Dylan," Ryan says cheerily. "He'd absolutely tell me, in vivid detail that I wouldn't be able to forget. You're too easy."

"Only for your brother," Connor shoots back, because his face is already at critical tomato levels, so he might as well take Ryan down with him.

"Stop, no," Ryan says, laughing. "I can't un-picture this, Davo."

"You deserve it," Connor says, uncovering his face and taking another sip. The ice cream is melting pretty fast, and the whole thing is becoming a creamy, chocolaty mess. Connor's going to thank Dylan for it later, but he's not letting Ryan know how much he's enjoying it now, that's for sure.

"Hey," Ryan says, kicking him lightly as they both work their way through their drinks. Ryan's got something dark and strong-smelling in a tall glass, and he looks like he's enjoying it, whatever it is. "Happy birthday, Connor. From your second-favourite Strome."

Connor has to blink fast so he doesn't do anything embarrassing, like cry into his booze milkshake. "Thanks," he says, managing not to sound choked up at all. "I… thanks, Ry."

Ryan gives him a real smile, not the shit-eating one he usually uses around the team. "You're family," he says. "I'm a summer birthday, so I always get to spend mine at home, but I bet it kind of sucks to not have family around for yours most of the time."

"I'm glad you're here," Connor says in a sudden fit of honesty. "I mean, I miss Ebs? But I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm glad that you're glad," Ryan says, and that's not resounding agreement, but Connor knows that Ryan left more behind than he gained by coming to Edmonton. It's not nothing, anyway. "And I'm glad that I can be here tonight."

"Thanks," Connor repeats, and then Ryan lets them lapse into silence to finish their drinks.

Ryan bumps his side on the elevator ride back up. "Wanna watch Paul Blart?"

"Yes," Connor agrees instantly. Drinking tends to make the walls he's built up to keep his emotions in check crumble for the night, and if he's left to his own devices, he'll definitely fall into some kind of romcom trap. Kevin James sounds like the perfect cure. "Only the first one, though. I'm gonna fall asleep after that."

"You're 21, not 51," Ryan grumbles, but he follows Connor into his room and sprawls out on the spare bed.

The movie is as mindless as Connor remembers; it's good for the laughs, anyway, but also good in that he doesn't mind the interruption when someone knocks on his door half an hour into it. He doesn't have the option of not answering; part of the whole captain thing is being available to the team whenever they need him. He moves to roll off the bed, but Ryan beats him to it, popping up and waving at Connor.

"I'll tell whoever it is that you already had a drink," he promises. "And if it's a real problem, I'll let them in."

"Thanks," Connor says, relaxing back into his pillow nest. Ryan probably won't get an A, not officially, but the team doesn't seem to mind that Connor treats him like one anyway.

"What kind of bullshit movie," Connor hears, and he's turning and tumbling off the bed before he knows what he's doing, because that's—

"Dylan?" he asks, as if he's not sure who he's staring at.

"Happy birthday, use protection, bye!" Ryan singsongs, closing the door behind him as he steps out of the room.

"Hi," Dylan says, crossing the room in three quick strides. He reaches for Connor just as Connor reaches for him, and then Connor's laughing into his shoulder, shaking and holding on tightly.

"Hi," Connor breathes. "What are you—how did you—"

"I had help," Dylan says easily. "The team agreed to let me fly out for my buddy's birthday, as long as I make it back to Tuscon in time for the game on Monday. Ryan distracted you, although if I knew Paul Blart was his idea of distraction, I might have texted Drai instead."

"Ryan also bought me a drink with zero fruit in it," Connor tells him immediately.

Dylan hums. "Was it good anyway?"

"It was good anyway."

"Then I guess I'll let him slide this time," Dylan says, swaying them back and forth a little. "Hey. I missed you."

"I missed you too," Connor says, smiling and leaning up to kiss him once, twice, before leaning against Dylan's chest. Connor's not small, but Dylan's always been able to wrap him up and make him feel safe, protected. It's not why he fell in love with Dylan, but it's definitely a nice side benefit.

"I'm here until six tomorrow night," Dylan says. "Then I have to catch a plane back, but we can do whatever you want tomorrow."

"I want to buy a plane ticket," Connor replies, not moving from where he's tucked under Dylan's chin. "To Phoenix. And then I'll get a car, I guess, and follow you down to Tuscon."

"Connor," Dylan says, surprise clear in his voice.

"I have five days off," Connor says. "You don't. I want to spend them with you."

"In a shitty AHL town?" Dylan asks, voice disbelieving. "There's not a lot to do in Tuscon."

"You're there," Connor says simply. "Happy birthday to me."

Dylan hugs him tighter, and Connor takes a deep breath in, lets it outs slowly. "Happy birthday," Dylan whispers. "I'm glad this was a good surprise."

"A great surprise," Connor confirms. "Love you."

"Love you too," Dylan replies, immediate, fierce. Connor doesn't have a running total of the different ways that Dylan says the words, but he likes labelling them as they happen all the same: casual, reassuring, intimate, sleepy. There are lots of words that Connor has used in the privacy of his own head, and he feels like he has yet to come across Dylan saying it the same way twice. He doesn't think he'd mind if it did happen, though; there's something to be said for the way they love each other being a thing of habit, of comfort, and Connor's looking forward to that as much as he's enjoying how they are in the here and now.

He can't wait to find out if he's right.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr](http://somehowunbroken.tumblr.com) if that's your thing!


End file.
